


your hands on my cheeks, your shoulder in my mouth

by Imestelomel



Series: we breathe, we dream, we raise our love [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare?, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Claiming is intense yo, Fix-It, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Amnesia, Mutual Pining, Other, Pack Dynamics, Panic Attack, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-19 21:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imestelomel/pseuds/Imestelomel
Summary: “You know it’s probably because you’re an alpha,” Beau smirked at Caleb as she cleaned under her fingernails with a stick.“Possibly,” he admitted quietly after a minute, eyes darting to the purple tiefling. “I can’t think of any other logical reason for his trust in a trash person he only mostly remembers.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *hides face in hands* This fic came out of nowhere and basically burst into existence within 48 hours. Just...don’t look at me, I’ve never written ABO or this fast so it’s just completely foreign to me.  
> (Title derived from [Anna Sun by Walk the Moon](https://youtu.be/qDVW81bXo0s))  
> 

Apparently resurrection did not mean picking up right where the recently deceased left off, or continuing life as usual.

After he was dug out of the ground and brought back to life by the only cleric they had found willing to take on the job in Shady Creek Run, Mollymauk Tealeaf didn’t speak for a full six hours. He had sat swaddled in his tapestry and staring at the fire, Beau’s waterskin hanging loosely from his hand where she had pressed it hours before, and hadn’t responded to much of anything going on around him. Nott had watched him carefully for changes with unblinking, yellow eyes, while Beau sat watch and Caleb restlessly fiddled with his component diamond in one hand and pet Frumpkin with the other. Keg had given them space and wordlessly took watch for the night, knowing things could take a frosty turn for her if their friend was brought back different, and Nila had taken it upon herself to focus on supper for the evening, handing out cups of stew to the others in the silence. 

It wasn’t until Molly turned to Nott and asked if there was pocket bacon with a lazy smirk that they had all breathed a collective sigh of relief that yes, they had indeed resurrected Mollymauk, not Lucien, or Nonagon, or any other possibility.

His memories, however, were spotty. At first, he could remember Beau’s story, but not Beau’s name. He knew that Nott was to be trusted, but watched carefully as she moved around the fire and horses. He remembered their missing friends (“There was a warlock, and another with horns like mine...and Yasha?”) but Keg was completely wiped from his mind.

Beau had laughed for minutes on end when it became obvious that the only person Molly remembered well was Caleb.

Over the next few days it became commonplace to see Molly trailing after Caleb, who took on the role of mother hen faster than expected by the others in the group. He dragged Molly’s bedroll into his tent, with Nott relegated to share with Beau and Keg, much to the dwarven woman’s distaste. The wizard was patient with the repeated questions about Molly’s life, and tried his best to fill in the memories that were still blurry. Nott had been curious about the sudden change in attitude from Caleb, but he had merely replied that if Molly trusted him than he was obligated to help smooth over his post-resurrection uncertainties.

“You know it’s probably because you’re an alpha,” Beau smirked at Caleb as she cleaned under her fingernails with a stick. Molly was just out of earshot and kneeling off to the side, having apparently remembered his prayer ritual with his swords for the first time since his return to the world of the living.

Caleb ignored her and continued to focus on repairing the tears in Molly’s coat with small, even stitches in his silver thread. “Possibly,” he admitted quietly after a minute, eyes darting to the purple tiefling. “I can’t think of any other logical reason for his trust in a trash person he only mostly remembers.”

Beau snorted, but a frown remained on her face. “I know we don’t usually...pry in each other’s business, but if we don’t find a suppressant potion for him soon we’re going to have a problem.”

Caleb looked towards Mollymauk contemplatively and hummed in agreement. There had been an unspoken agreement in the group to not intimately discuss dynamics, but after weeks on the road together it had been obvious where everyone aligned. Fjord, Caleb and Yasha were alphas, with Yasha being the calmest alpha any of them had ever met, at least until they were faced with an enemy. Jester and Beau were betas, their neutral scent needing no suppressing or hiding in battle, and Molly was the sole omega of the group, as Nott had no dynamic thanks to being a goblin. Their dynamics had rarely caused issue, aside from some small disagreements between Fjord and Caleb, and Beau lashing out at the alphas in any authority situations. 

But Molly’s scent was growing stronger by the day, and though no one would argue that he couldn’t take care of himself in a battle, it would make him an obvious target. It went without saying that the other four were unwilling to consider a battle where the Iron Shepherds would immediately strike their friend down.

Caleb knotted the end of the thread and bit through it. “Unfortunately, we do not have the time or money to seek out a suppressant in Shady Creek Run. We may have to test how much the lavender oil can cover his scent as an alternative.”

Beau stared at him. “Lavender oil isn’t going to do shit and you know it. We might need to look at a more drastic option, here.”

The wizard sighed loudly. “We do not need to jump to conclusions. His scent is still a whisper of vapor on the wind. If it remains the same there’s no need to do a fucking thing.”

Beau pursed her lips. It was clear she already picked up on Caleb’s propensity for cursing when he was uncomfortable. “It wouldn’t necessarily have to be you.”

Caleb looked up quickly from folding up Molly’s coat. “ _ Nein _ ,” he spat. “I will not let some dwarf he barely has memory of claim him in such a way. She is...not one of us. She has helped us,  _ ja _ , but she is not one of us.” 

The monk’s eyebrows rose. “You won't let her? Look man, you don't get to decide this shit by yourself. If anyone should decide between you or Keg takin’ that step it should be Molly.”

Caleb frowned. “Us two discussing this without him makes  _ both _ of us assholes trying to dictate his life.” He was mostly certain that, if given the choice, Molly would choose him, but some instinct seated deep in his chest was cringing at the idea of a relative stranger claiming their packmate. The Mighty Nein had been pushed to their breaking points with the events of the last few weeks, and he was lately overtaken with an urge to keep everyone close and safe in the absence of the others. He worked his jaw for a moment. “Fine. But we only offer that path to him,” he paused, holding up one finger, “as a last resort.” 

Beau crossed her arms, but nodded. “Fine.”

Caleb answered her nod with one of his own, and rose quietly to return the mended coat to Molly, the silver stitching gleaming in the firelight.

 

* * *

 

Two nights of slow travel put them at the edge of the Iron Shepherds territory, and after a full day of scouting and planning Beau had cornered Caleb once again, this time just beyond the edge of the firelight among the brush while the others were setting up camp.

“He's comin’ up on his heat faster than he should, Caleb, and at this point we could steal a suppression potion off a traveler and it still wouldn't work.”

Caleb grimaced and stared off into the forest over Beau’s shoulder. There wasn't much denying it; Mollymauk’s scent had taken on a distinctly spicy tinge that signified the few days of mild fever and weakness that would come within the week. Molly’s health was steady for the moment, but any enemy who caught a whiff would gravitate towards him. At best he was a major liability in battle and at worst he was back in the grave.

The latter was impossible to consider.

“I know you don't like the idea of claimin’ him but you and I both know you're the only alpha he'd allow to get that close right now, and to be honest I’d take you over Keg any day of the week. So you need to fortify yourself or whatever and go talk to him about it,” Beau said, flailing her hand around in frustration.

Caleb drew further into himself, his shoulders rising futilely to cover him from view, before nodding sharply without looking towards Beau. She sighed.

“I’m not sayin’ this to fuck with you, you know. This is too important, and I’d like to think we’ve gotten, I don’t know, past that? I’m not saying we’re best friends or anythin’ but I’m not that much of a dick anymore,” she mumbled, suddenly withdrawn and awkward again.

His shoulders dropped a fraction as a ghost of a smile appeared. “I know that, Beauregard.” He reached out to pat her shoulder once. “Now go away, I’m tired of talking.”

Beau snorted, but did as he asked. He watched as she stomped back into the camp, pausing to ruffle Nott’s hood on her way to helping Nila with the fire. Nott, who would have pulled her crossbow on someone for that just a few months past, merely shoved Beau’s hand away and dramatically rolled her eyes. Caleb snorted. For all Mollymauk’s death had broken them, it seemed they were becoming something stronger as well.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that development. He and Nott had entered the group with a goal,  _ a plan _ , and with every emotional connection forged with the others they were in danger of never seeing that plan come to fruition. But now that they had spent so much time as the Mighty Nein, Caleb was realizing he had  _ craved _ this kind of companionship far more than he had ever thought. The certainty and protection that came with packmates, as base those instincts were, had been doing wonders for both him and Nott. They were healthy. They hadn’t slept on the cold ground, alone and with hunger gnawing at their bellies in months. 

Their newfound companionship didn’t mean the current dilemma was welcome, however. For all that Caleb wanted to guarantee that Mollymauk stayed alive and safe, that didn’t mean he wanted to take part in a dubiously consented claim (and it would remain dubious as long as the claim was done with the threat of battle looming overhead). It made his skin crawl to consider claiming someone without the purest of intentions. Yes, he cared for Mollymauk, in fact he cared for him more than anyone besides Nott, but there was no full-fledged love there. Affection, yes, romantic inclinations, maybe, but not love. Not yet. It simply felt wrong to take advantage of the tiefling like that when he deserved nothing less than a reciprocated claiming, Mollymauk did not - could not - love him.

But Beauregard was right. The choice belonged to Molly and Molly alone. It was merely Caleb’s place to present the ideas to him, and support him in his decision.

Caleb mulled the thought over, and with a final sigh he returned to the camp. Regardless of his apprehensions, he would talk to the lavender tiefling after the others had gone to bed. Perhaps the uninterrupted conversation would allow Caleb and Molly to brainstorm an idea that didn't involve teeth or death.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mollymauk Tealeaf wasn't one to back down from a fight, especially one in which people were avenging him, or where his friends were in real danger. The guilt would eat at him, and he wasn't about making life choices that led to regret.
> 
> Well. He might if it was someone he loved that asked it of him."

Mollymauk Tealeaf may have reverted back to a few days old, but he wasn’t stupid.

Granted, he did feel a little off-kilter. It was to be expected, he supposed, after being drawn from a cold grave for what he hoped was only the second time in his body’s existence. He had spent the last few days on the road recovering his strength (he had looked like a wobbly colt trying to get around the first day of consciousness) and regaining his memories of the Mighty Nein (they were mostly recovered, in fact, but he was having a wee bit of fun annoying Beau by claiming to forget her name every so often). His coat, torn and stained with blood and now painstakingly repaired by Caleb and his seemingly never-ending spool of silver thread, had gone a long way towards making him feel like himself again. His belongings had mostly been returned to him, and overall he was feeling rather good for being dead in the ground.

Well, he’d been feeling rather good until he realized that the end of his life had meant the end of the effectiveness of his last suppressant potion.

At first, it hadn’t been noticeable. He was so focused on getting back to his old self that he hadn’t paid attention to the faint sweet scent on the air around him. But then he’d sat around the fire and seen the twitch of Keg’s nose as she passed him, or the way Caleb had kept him closer than he ever had _before_ , and it started to sink in.

The night he got his coat back from Caleb (and hadn’t that been a sign, his alpha packmate mending his clothes for him and painstakingly washing it when he wouldn’t even wash his own body) he had lain awake in their shared tent, listening to the sound of the wizard’s even breathing and mulling over his options. Originally, his suppressant potion was intended to work for a full six months. He had made a point in Zadash to track one down once he’d reaffirmed that the Mighty Nein were his new family, however ragtag the group was. While he knew none of the others would mind, necessarily, if he went unsuppressed, they tended to find themselves in sticky situations, and he wouldn’t allow himself to drag the group down with heat fevers or tempting scents in battle.

Now, however, they were basically in the boonies. Most of their gold had gone towards his resurrection (and wasn’t that a kick in the ass when Beau had smugly told him he had “funded” his own return from the dead) and the nearest town wasn’t exactly suitable for going around and asking for a handout. Molly was loath to admit it, but he was in a right pickle. He’d try and deny it, but if the prickly, sensitive sensation under his skin was anything to go by, he’d come down with what would basically be the flu in a week’s time.

Mollymauk rolled over and stared at Caleb in the dim light. There was one option. If an alpha bit him, it would mask his scent. It wasn’t a permanent solution, and it would be useless in staving off the impending heat. Still, he wouldn’t be a complete liability anymore. He could hold his own, his friends wouldn’t be focused on protecting him out of instinct. It could work.

But, to complicate the entire debacle further, Caleb didn’t seem like the type of alpha to claim an omega without being desperately in love first, and that obviously wasn’t the case, much to Molly’s disappointment. Sure, he might claim him out of duty, but there’d be no emotion, no connection. It’d be an empty, half-formed bond, one where they would both be shielding their emotions from each other, and he wasn’t quite certain he could handle something like that with someone he was already harboring some affection for. That kind of claim would be cruel, like dangling chocolate in front of a starving child.

On the other hand, the idea of a bond with Keg made the tiefling cringe in distaste. She was basically a stranger who was inadvertently responsible for his death at the hand of the Iron Shepherds. Every instinct he had was telling him to keep his neck away from her teeth. Yes, she seemed like the type of gal who would take on an alpha’s duty of providing some protection, but she wasn’t _family_. Caleb _was_. As reluctant and aloof as the man pretended to be, Caleb was undeniably family to Molly. Maybe Molly wasn’t family to Caleb, but Molly trusted him, and that was really all that mattered. Being tied to Caleb was far more sensible than Keg.

Well. It wasn’t as if Caleb would consent to it, so it didn’t really matter.

Molly sighed. He supposed he could always sit this one out, despite how useless he would feel. He could hide out in the woods while the others freed Fjord and Jester and Yasha, and wait for a signal to join them. It would make the fight far tougher, but with Nila and Keg, it might be closer to a fair match.

He knew he would hate himself for it. Mollymauk Tealeaf wasn't one to back down from a fight, especially one in which people were avenging him, or where his friends were in real danger. The guilt would eat at him, and he wasn't about making life choices that led to regret.

Well. He might if it was someone he loved that asked it of him.

Molly rubbed his eyes roughly and rolled onto his back. It was likely Caleb had already come to the same conclusion, as smart as he was, so it was better if he just...went along with it. It was the considerate thing to do, after all.

Mollymauk closed his eyes and let the soft sounds of breathing beside him lull him to sleep.

* * *

 

Molly wasn’t really surprised when Caleb opted to join him in the tent two nights later to head to bed early.

Truthfully, he had been avoiding Caleb for most of the day, and not subtly. His scent was undeniably stronger, and taking on those certain notes that just screamed ‘heat is coming’, so he had futilely been hiding away or sitting apart from the others to keep them from commenting on it.

It was as if he had been hoping that the lack of commentary and never acknowledging it would mean no argument to him fighting the Iron Shepherds the next night. He knew it wouldn’t work, but the past few days had just led to him dwelling on the idea of a conversation with Caleb and he was unquestionably nervous now. It would just lead to him confessing his feelings and making Caleb unspeakably awkward around him.

Caleb cleared his throat before sitting on his bedroll. “Mr. Mollymauk?”

Molly smiled despite himself and gazed at the wizard through his arms as he sat and removed the dangling pieces of jewelry from his horns. He hated when they tangled in his hair during the night. “Mr. Caleb.”

“It seems that you and I need to have a rather unavoidable conversation,” Caleb said softly, folding his hands in his lap and leaning towards Molly.

He sighed and turned to Caleb, mimicking the way he sat. “It’s about my scent, I’m guessing.”

Caleb nodded stiffly. “ _Ja_ , it is.” He tilted his head in a surprisingly gentle manner, and something in Molly’s chest tightened as he found himself on the receiving end of one of the most affectionate expressions he’d ever seen on Caleb’s face. “I do not believe it would be wise for you to engage in battle tomorrow as you are. It is- it is not that you cannot hold your own, because you are a formidable opponent in your own right, but with your scent as strong as it is I’m afraid the thugs tomorrow will instinctually focus all of their attacks on you. I- We...We will not be able to fight effectively if we are concentrating protecting one of our strongest melee fighters from melee fights...and, to be frank, we are not ready to see you die. Not again.”

Molly was horrified to feel his throat closing with emotion. “I wouldn’t want you to see that again, either,” he whispered.

“ _Ja_ , well,” the wizard said, clearing his throat, “I do not mean to overstep-“

“Caleb, darling,” Molly interrupted, inexplicably amused by his shyness, “Surely you’ve realized by now that I trust you, not just as a friend, but as a packmate? You can’t possibly overstep; whatever it is you’re thinking about saying, it’s okay.”

Caleb blushed. “I, ah, okay.” He fiddled with the edge of his coat, clearly flustered and taken aback by the idea of being trusted implicitly. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until the cloud of tension above them became too much to bear for Molly.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to force yourself to tell me. I- I’ll sit this one out.” He ducked his head and grimaced to himself. It was a little disheartening, knowing his friend couldn’t even get through a serious conversation with him. Didn’t bode well, all things considered.

“ _W_ _as?_ ” The tone was so sharp that Molly’s head snapped up without hesitation. Caleb was gaping at him with wide eyes. “ _W_ _hy_ would you think we want you to sit out of the fight?”

He shrugged and swallowed around the stubborn lump in his throat that refused to completely disappear. “It’s logical, isn’t it? You don’t want to see me die, _I_ don’t want to be dead. We don’t have the resources to stop my heat, and it’s too late for that anyway. It makes sense…” he trailed off.

Caleb shook his head slowly. “And where would that leave you? Waiting alone, scared and worried about your friends, feeling like an asshole for leaving them a person down?” He shifted closer so that their knees were touching and looked him straight in the eyes. “I know what kind of person you are, Mollymauk, and I would not ask that of you.”

“Oh.” He took a shuddering breath. “Then, you were going to suggest claiming.”

“ _Ja_ .” Molly waited to see a look of disgust or resignation, but Caleb merely continued on. “I know it is a drastic measure, but it is truly the safest course of action for everyone. And...it is difficult to present it as an option when it is not truly an option. You are being pressured into this by the danger of inevitable enemies, which means the lines of consent are _blurred_. It is disheartening to think of you agreeing to a claim under duress. You- you deserve _better_.”

A ball of warmth settled in Molly’s chest at Caleb’s words. He was worried for _Molly_. If there was anything he had expected in an argument against claiming, it wasn’t _sentiment_. For a fraction of a second, he had to fight to keep an embarrassingly goofy smile off of his face. Caleb - handsome, aloof, _brilliant_ Caleb - cared. “Consent aside, who would be the one doing the claiming?”

The man across from him took a deep, visibly steadying breath. “Ultimately, it would, of course, be your choice. However, I...I would like to offer myself as an alpha. Only- Only a temporary one, as a full claim-” Caleb nervously cut himself off, cheeks flushing prettily.

“A full bond is a bit much for us, isn’t it?” Mollymauk finished, taking pity on him. Consummating a claim would be alarmingly fast, seeing as how they had only known each other for a little over a month.

“ _Yes,_ ” Caleb sighed, relieved to not have to continue the line of thought.

Molly paused. “If this is too much for you, I’m sure Keg woul-”

“ _Nein!_ ” Molly reeled back slightly at the snarl in Caleb’s throat but stayed focused on the torrent of words spilling from his lips. His eyes were flitting anxiously around the tent, and Molly was sure that if they’d had space, he would have immediately started pacing. “I know Keg is an alternative, and she is probably a decent person and alpha, but she is a _stranger_. We have only known her for a few days. She is not a member of the Might Nein! I know I am mostly an _Arschloch_ but do not like to think of the idea of you being claimed by someone who, who… We are _pack_ , Mollymauk. Friends. I cannot stomach the thought of a stranger’s teeth on your neck, I _cannot_ , Molly-”

“Caleb. _Caleb_.” Molly shushed the wizard and grabbed his hands, squeezing them gently. “It’s okay! I wasn’t really too keen on the idea myself, to be honest.” He stared into Caleb’s blue eyes, thoughts clicking into place. He had been scared that Caleb claiming him would be too cruel, knowing the wizard didn’t much care for anyone aside from Nott, but he had just called him his friend. He’d called him his _packmate_. It might not be the affection and romance he hoped for deep down, but it was enough.

It was more than enough.

Molly swallowed hard.

“I know you don’t like the questionable consent, and frankly, I don’t either, but this...this is me consenting as much as I can. I- I want you. I want _you_ to claim me, Caleb.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This somehow went from two chapters to three. And here I thought I'd be done with it by now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This was it. He would bite Mollymauk. Claim him, as if he had a right to. As if he deserved to even touch him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Panic attack (I swear I didn't intend to write it that way it just happened.)

Caleb felt completely frozen into place. He understood what Mollymauk had just said, but his body was refusing to respond. Focusing, he forced himself to take a deep breath and release the paralyzing tension with his exhale. “You are sure?” His eyes dropped to the tiefling’s tail twitching lazily across their knees. So far during their conversation, it had been wrapped taut around Molly’s thigh. He wondered if it was a bit of an indication of his mental state.

“I’m sure. I trust you, darling. I know you’ll do right by me.” Molly’s thumbs began to rub slow circles over his knuckles, grounding him.

“ _Ja_ , I- I promise I will not try and hold the claim over you. You are still your own person, and can make your own decisions. This is just-” _Something I can’t have_ , his mind finished for him. _Something I don’t deserve_.

“It’s just for protection. For safety.” Mollymauk gave him a reassuring smile, and though it was difficult to tell because of the lack of pupils, Caleb fancied that the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He had to be so uncomfortable, sitting there waiting for a claiming bite from a second-rate alpha and a claim that came without love or devotion.

He didn’t feel very reassured. “ _Ja_ ,” he whispered.

Molly squeezed his hands again, then inched closer until he was close enough that his thigh was between both of Caleb’s. “We should probably do it now. Let the scent sink in, let the bite heal up a bit before tomorrow.”

Caleb nodded absentmindedly, and watched in a daze as Mollymauk shrugged out of his coat first, then began to untuck his loose linen shirt to take it off. Feeling himself begin to hyperventilate, Caleb carefully counted the spidery scars across the lavender skin of his chest. This was it. He would bite Mollymauk. Claim him, as if he had a right to. As if he _deserved_ to even _touch_ him.

“Caleb?” He blinked slowly, falling back into himself to see Molly staring at him expectantly. He licked his lips without thinking about it, and noticed a shiver run through the tiefling. Perhaps the cold permeating through the tent was getting to him. He should hurry.

“Right.” Molly’s adam’s apple bobbed and he tilted his head back, giving Caleb access. He watched carefully as his red eyes closed, and carefully leaned forward, his lips millimeters from Mollymauk’s skin.

Compulsively, he dragged his nose and cheek across Molly’s neck, scenting him. He smelled beautiful. Heavenly. It was a scent that reminded him of hope, of peace. Of things that he had yet to find, and wasn’t worthy of.

He attempted to shut down the errant thought, but it blared out in his mind like an alarm, and he instinctively screwed his eyes shut against it. What was he _doing?_ He was trash, garbage, the very mud and muck that was trampled underfoot; he was not meant to enjoy beauty such as Molly. He could not provide _safety and protection_. Vivid memories of Mollymauk falling to the ground - eyes dim and unfocused, red staining the front of his shirt and coat - ran through his mind and sent a shudder down his spine.

It would happen again. Even if he claimed him, even if they were careful, it was going to happen again.

He was vaguely aware of voices in the background, but his ears would not tune into them until he felt cool hands gently cup both sides of his face.

“Caleb! _Caleb!_ Darling, look at me. Focus on _me._ ”

His eyes shot open with a gasp, and he realized the other voice he had heard was his own, muttering frantic protests in Zemnian. Mollymauk’s face was inches away from his, lined with worry, but he was still speaking in that gentle, even tone. 

“It’s okay, love, it’s okay. Just keep breathing, nice deep breaths, just like that. Listen to my voice, you’re safe, it’s all okay…”

Caleb shook his head. “ _Nein_ , Molly, you deserve better than- better than this, than _me_ -“

“What are you talking about, Caleb? I couldn’t ask for better! I’ve chosen you-“

“-I am the worst _possible_ alpha you could be stuck with. I can’t give you what you need and I certainly am not what you want-“

“No,” he growled. Molly’s hands suddenly tightened just enough to hold his head still, forcing him to look him square in the eyes. “I could have a thousand alphas lined up for me and me alone and I would still choose you. Not only are you my friend, but you’re family, you’re my _packmate_ , and I know you don’t want me the way I want you but I promise I won’t push those feelings on you, since it’s obvious you aren’t ready-“

“ _Was?_ ” He reached up to cover Mollymauk’s hands with his own and pulled them down to hold them. “Feelings? What feelings?”

Molly grimaced. “I- I wasn’t going to say anything,” he stammered, glancing down at their joined hands. “This has already been a stressful situation, and I didn’t want to push you any further out of your comfort zone. But- I like you. Romantically. I- I don’t love you, not yet, but I do like you. And I know you’ll just say you don’t deserve to be loved or liked, but that’s a crock of shit, Caleb, and anyway, you can’t dictate who people like. Regardless, I won’t push it on you, or make you uncomfortable with displays of unwanted affection or anything like that. I know you don’t feel the same, and I’ll respect that.” The tiefling stopped talking abruptly and bit his lip, clearly feeling self-conscious.

Caleb was floored. This beautiful, enigmatic tiefling had just said things that, despite his impressive intellect, he almost couldn’t comprehend. This _enchanting_ person across from him, who he had never even dared to dream of because that way led to only rejection and heartbreak, claimed to like him, could see himself _loving him_ , and wanted to be _his_. It had never even crossed his mind to seriously entertain the idea.

But now that the door stood in front of him, it was all very, very clear.

“Oh, _mein schatz_ , how could I not want you?” He raised his right hand to brush the curls out of Molly’s face and gripped his hand tighter in the left. “You- you are more than I could ever deserve, and I had not dared to dream that you could even notice me…”

Mollymauk gaped at him, but he merely squeezed his hand and fought the hysterical urge to burst into happy laughter. Slowly - ever so slowly - a giddy smile spread across Molly’s face. “You’re fucking with me,” he laughed, finally finding his words.

“ _Nein,_ Mollymauk, I would not joke about something as important as this.”

“So you actually like me? Like, genuinely have romantic feelings in my general direction?”

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb nodded, a ghost of a laugh escaping in a huff. There was a blur of color and his arms were suddenly full of a lavender tiefling whose arms were wrapped around his neck, forehead pressing against his own.

“You like me,” Mollymauk whispered in the air between them.

“ _Ja_.”

“And you’ll still claim me?”

Caleb snorted. “It seems to me that this sudden revelation of intentions only strengthens the argument for me to claim you.”

Molly laughed quietly. “So you’ll do it now? 

He hesitated. “ _Ja_ ,” he said slowly. “I admit, I still feel...inadequate in the larger scheme of things, and that is not likely to change, but if you want me, then I am yours, _mein schatz_.”

Mollymauk smiled. “Fuck your insecurity, darling. All that matters is that you’re exactly who I want. Besides, I believe in you."

Caleb hummed happily. All the other times he had been believed in, it had given him a heady sense of power, visions of a grandiose future and skills beyond measure. But this...this was comforting, enveloping him like a blanket warmed by a fire on a cold winter’s night. It made him feel like he could conquer his enemies, move mountains...and then find his way home to caring arms and two coats - one brown, one colorful - hanging by the door, side by side.

They sat for a few moments, breathing each other in, until Mollymauk pulled back and looked at him expectantly, hands going down to hold onto the wizard’s waist.

This time, Caleb leaned in to scent his neck and kissed it - once, twice - feeling completely free of the anxiety and panic he had experienced before. “Ready?” He murmured against cool skin, and, feeling his nod, brought his teeth confidently to the junction of Mollymauk’s shoulder and neck.

He could distantly hear a gasp, and his mouth was flooded with a burst of warm iron, but instincts took over, and he stayed with his jaw clamped down for a moment until Molly went lax in his arms, his head resting on Caleb’s shoulder. He gently disengaged, and reached into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief, careful not to dislodge Molly from his resting spot. “Mollymauk?”

“Hm?” He didn’t move, so Caleb carefully began to dab at the bite, catching the thin trails of blood before they ran too far down.

“Are you alright?” He brought his hand up to stroke through Molly’s hair as he continued to clean the wound.

“Mmm, yes,” he slurred, sounding drunk. “I didn’t expect to feel so... _safe_.”

A fluttering sensation burst from the center of Caleb’s chest, affection and satisfaction mingling, and they both gasped in unison as the sensation seemed to expand. “Is that- I mean. That is us, no?”

He felt Mollymauk nod against his shoulder. “I think so. We’ll probably only feel the stronger things, though. It’s not a complete bond.”

He finished cleaning Molly’s bite. “You should get some rest, Molly.” He felt the hands on his waist tighten as he leaned back off of his shoulder just enough to see Caleb.

“Can we pull the bedrolls closer together? I’m feeling a bit...spacey.”

Careful to stay close, they rearranged their belongings to make one large bed, and Caleb laid down flat on his back, pulling Mollymauk close so his head rested on his shoulder and his arm crossed his chest. He smiled as he felt a tail wrapping itself carefully around his thigh. “Mollymauk,” he whispered into the dim light. “I know this has all been rather rushed, but I feel the need to say I am glad circumstances pushed us together, as strange as that sounds.”

He could feel Molly smiling into his shoulder. “No, it makes sense. We might have taken _ages_ otherwise,” he mumbled.

Caleb chuckled, his eyes sliding shut. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content and comfortable in his own skin. He wondered his connection with Molly had taken the edge off of his anxiety, as the usual restless sensations he felt in bed had faded to a barely noticeable buzz in the back of his mind. It was probably just a temporary influx in hormones, but he was thankful for it all the same.

He smiled as he felt Mollymauk find his hand and lace their fingers together. Tomorrow was sure to be eventful. He was sure Nott would have plenty to say about the change in dynamics, and Beauregard would not hesitate to tease and poke at their budding relationship. They were going to fight for their lives and their friends, and hopefully get revenge for Molly’s death at the hands of Lorenzo. It would be tough and bloody and possibly more than the Mighty Nein could handle.

For once, however, the uncertainty of the next day failed to keep Caleb from easing into a restful sleep, because whatever came, he would not face it alone.

 

* * *

 

Molly listened to the sleepy sounds of Caleb breathing, basking in the fuzzy headspace of their new bond. He felt miles away from the other night’s anxieties, when he had worried and stressed about Caleb finding out about his feelings, ruining their relationship, and leaving his friends to die without him.

He was looking forward to the next couple of days. Sure, they still had to take on the Iron Shepherds, but there were more important things to focus on now, like how Caleb’s lips would feel against his own, or holding his hand in front of the others in full light of day. He couldn't wait to see Jester and Yasha’s reactions to his claiming bite; there was bound to be a good amount of squealing and smiles involved. He was excited to show off his wizard, walk down the streets of some new city with him and let the world see how they perfectly fit together.

He wanted to cuddle with Caleb during his heat. He could soak up his warmth while he felt shaky and vulnerable, and take comfort in his alpha being near, holding him close and keeping him safe, trusting the others to protect them like packmates should.

He wanted to learn the sounds Caleb would make when he pressed his body flush against him - every hitch of his breath and purr and moan - and what it would be like when they (one day) decided to compete the bond.

As sleep began to overtake him he pressed a small kiss on Caleb’s shoulder and smiled. Dying and coming back to life has been no walk in the park, but if he got to keep Caleb for the majority of this life, it would all have been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's finished! *jazz hands* I hope y'all enjoyed it! 
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who commented and subscribed to this fic. It really kept me focused and determined to finish it. This is my first complete multi-chapter fic! I honestly believe I couldn't have done it without y'all.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to take a break to stretch, walk around, get some water and roll out those tense shoulders! Self-care is important for everyone!


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